


No Ordinary Household Pest

by Jadzialove



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzialove/pseuds/Jadzialove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape's pest-deterrent efforts are derailed in the most unexpected way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Ordinary Household Pest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaeWhit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeWhit/gifts).



> Written for RaeWhit's birthday. 
> 
> Many thanks to Sherry for the quick and painless beta work and the wonderful input. Any mistakes still lurking about are strictly my own.
> 
> Hope you like it, Cyn!! This should serve as a 'thank you' of sorts as well, as I discovered (as did Sherry) while trying to write this in secret, how absolutely vital your input is to my writing process. Although Sherry was wonderfully understanding and insightful, I missed you terribly!

* * *

  
**No Ordinary Household Pest**  
  
  
  
Severus Snape closed his front door with a resounding thud, and no small amount of satisfaction.   
  
He'd been toying with various warding techniques in the five years since he'd returned to his shabby Muggle cottage, and had effectively eliminated all disturbances from unwanted solicitors (both Muggle and wizard alike), various infrequent Ministry visitors, and the odd neighborhood busybody.   
  
Only one pertinacious pest was proving immune to his deterrents.   
  
This morning, however, he'd added another layer to the already complex wards, designed specifically for the task, and felt certain he'd finally nipped that one in the bud, as well. So certain, he carried the feeling of satisfaction with him while he went about his daily routine.  
  
After a peaceful and productive morning of brewing, Severus poured hot water into his bone china teapot, drew out a matching forget-me-not adorned cup, and while the tea steeped, opened his ledger to work on his accounts.   
  
The full moon was two weeks hence, and, as every month, he'd been nearly overwhelmed with orders for Wolfsbane. So many, in fact, he could live on that income alone—not that he would ever be so foolish as to attempt it.  
  
His success, he supposed, was due to his reputation for discretion. His own post-war/post-trial infamy had led the wretched werewolf population to believe their secret was safe with him. As he was no friend to the Ministry, the werewolves were correct in that assumption; the Ministry could hang for all he cared. And as long as he wasn't exposed to the werewolves themselves, he'd gladly take their just-as-spendable Galleons—certainly, the world at large was a safer place if they were properly dosed. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.   
  
Severus was well into his second cup, and just starting on the sandwich he'd prepared for himself, when a knock sounded on his door. Although he very well should have expected the intrusion, he hadn't—the blissfully pest-free morning had apparently lulled him falsely.   
  
His startlement at the sound caused his teacup to hit the table rather more forcefully than he would have done otherwise, and the impact created a fissure in the delicate china, allowing the brownish liquid to seep through and puddle around its base. Severus sat clenched in his seat, waiting for another round of knocking, which he knew, without doubt, would come—watching indifferently as a rivulet of tea meandered over the edge of the uneven table to pool on the floor.   
  
The sniggering that bubbled from the wall to his left only served to increase his agitation.  
  
"Yes, fine for you to laugh; it's entirely _your_ fault he persists in disturbing me." And disturbing it was—this pest was not of the ordinary household variety.   
  
"Severus, I can claim no such thing; however, it does my heart good to know that you are not so all alone in this world." Damn the man's twinkling, and his posthumous meddling.  
  
"It is my greatest wish to be _alone_ , Albus. These little _visits_ are most unwelcome." Despite the veracity of the statement, Severus realized it'd lost something when he'd unconsciously straightened his robes and smoothed his hair as he rose from his chair. He grimaced in irritation, approaching the portrait with as much menace as he could muster. "I'll thank you to limit your meddling to Minerva and others who might appreciate it. I do not." He flipped the portrait around so it faced the wall, which did nothing to contain the merry chuckle issuing from the damnable man depicted within the frame.  
  
Severus stalked to the front door, pulling it open with no preamble, and smirked, gracefully raising an eyebrow at catching the pest with knuckles poised for knocking on a door that was no longer in front of him.  
  
"Oh!" The pest smiled good-naturedly when his fist met open air, and by way of greeting said, "What'd you do to your wards? It took me twenty minutes to make it to the door from the street."  
  
Severus claimed a tiny victory; his efforts had not been a complete failure after all. He reveled in it silently for a moment, then gave his attention back to the pest on his doorstep, wrestling briefly with a charge of… 'awareness' is what he labeled it, internally nodding with approval of the word, before he beat the sensation into submission. The pest was perpetually clad in form-fitting Muggle denims—Severus assured himself he would have experienced the same reaction were it any fit male, similarly attired, on his doorstep.  
  
As much as he was certain he wanted to, for some unfathomable reason Severus could not force himself to slam the door closed in the pest's face; so instead, he scowled and turned abruptly, robes swirling around him, and then stalked away—neither inviting the pest inside nor ordering him to leave.  
  
The pest, of course, took this action to be an invitation and followed Severus to the kitchen. Severus had just barely enough of a lead on him, but managed a quick and silent ' _Reparo_ ' and ' _Evanesco_ ', taking care of the tea mess before it could be noted by his unwanted guest.  
  
"Brilliant—I could do with a cuppa. D'you mind?" the pest asked, though he did not wait for an answer, and, as pests do, made himself at home, taking down a teacup and helping himself to the pot.  
  
A muffled enquiry sounded from the wall, "Is that you, Harry?"  
  
Potter grinned, giving no indication he thought the portrait's face-down position odd. "It is, sir. How are you?"  
  
"Very well, thank you. And you, my boy?"  
  
For a reason known only to him, the pest directed his verdant gaze, no longer obstructed by ridiculous spectacles, at Severus, before answering, "Doing well, I think—I'll know for certain in a bit."  
  
"Excellent. I'll leave you to your visit with Severus, then. Be good—both of you."  
  
The pest grinned broadly. "Oh, I intend to be."  
  
Severus, ignoring the return of _awareness_ that the cheeky grin had brought, refilled his own cup and sat down at the table, taking a swallow of tea before finally relenting, asking, "To what do I owe the rather dubious honor of your presence yet again, Potter?"  
  
The pest smiled, saying lightly, "Only the pleasure of your company, Severus."  
  
Something twisted inside of him and Severus' lips curled sourly. In a regrettable and ill-advised fit of gratitude, he'd granted Potter permission to address him by his given name. Of course, Potter had made the request shortly after he'd been a key factor in Severus' exoneration—a moment of weakness that Potter, with previously unperceived Slytherin guile, had fully exploited. He would gladly take that moment back if he could; he'd agreed to it believing (and hoping) that their paths would rarely, if ever, cross.  
  
How very wrong he'd been.  
  
"Surely your social calendar is already overburdened by your adoring public, all of them neatly queued up and vying for a precious minute or two with The Boy Who Lived Again," Severus said, gallingly unable to infuse it with a proper mix of bitterness and sarcasm. "I cannot begin to imagine what it is about my company that you find so desirable." Severus inwardly cringed at his poor choice of word.  
  
He arose suddenly from his seat, feigning a need to remove the abandoned sandwich, and leaned heavily on the sink, silently lamenting his inability to be rid of the pest, while simultaneously wrestling, once again, with the unrelenting awareness… _Oh, all right_ , he thought, gritting his teeth against it, _arousal, attraction—call it what you will_. Whatever it might be, it was nothing short of irksome.   
  
Gazing out the small window at the wild tangle of a back garden, Severus recalled with fondness the days when his libido had been a low-maintenance thing. The days when a serviceable stroking, worked into his morning ablutions, nearly an afterthought some days, was sufficient. It was ridiculous, a man of forty-three.... No! Forty-four. He started in surprise. Today was the twenty-third; his birthday had passed, unobserved, a fortnight ago. Forty-four was not by any means old—it was quite young by wizard standards (though there were days he felt positively ancient)—but still, to have this sexual re-awakening, this absurd urgency, at his age was rather disconcerting.   
  
Of course, when he'd actually been in his sexual prime, Lucius had led him around by the cock just long enough for him to take the Dark mark. Finding himself in the service of the Dark Lord had been a rather too effective libido suppressant. He'd not been celibate over the years, but neither had he been terribly active.  
  
As his back was to the room, he was completely unprepared for the gentle pressure between his shoulder blades and the low response at his ear, "Let me do the imagining then, Severus, because I find your company _very_ desirable."  
  
Certain that he was experiencing an arousal-induced hallucination at the most inappropriate of moments, Severus turned toward the source of the words, expecting to find empty air, but instead found lips—lush, warm, insistent ones—moving against his thin, stunned, unresponsive mouth.   
  
A battle of wills was born within him; was this some sort of trick? The pest's father had perpetrated a number of harmful pranks against him. But the pest himself had never done any such thing; he'd actually earned a certain level of trust and, apart from this vexing physical attraction, a bit of approbation, as well, during their coordinated war efforts.  
  
The pest moved his attention to Severus' jaw then down his neck, pleading gently between actions, "Please"—nip—"don't stop me"—lick—"took me forever"—bite—"to work up"—kiss—"the nerve."  
  
Severus took a moment to piece together the fragmented utterance, and then another to wonder when his robes had come open, but the battle of wills became a cease-fire, when Potter sucked on his left clavicle. A moan escaped him unnoticed, as he leant back against the sink weakly, surrendering without condition.  
  
Potter worked his way down Severus' pale, scarred chest and belly, paying particular attention to sensitive nipples, as he made his way steadily downward. He watched breathlessly as Potter tongued his erection through his boxers. It was the most erotic thing Severus had ever seen, had ever felt. Mesmerized by the sight and the sensation, his breathing became an erratic thing, then finally settled on panting. And Severus was absurdly grateful that he'd splurged on the silk—he'd never felt anything of the like; the delicate material, now moistened and hot, moving over and around his prick, was driving him mad with the pleasure of it.  
  
Severus' cock peeked out of the elastic waistband, filling heavily, as Potter nuzzled his bollocks, then worked his way up the shaft, turning his attention to the glistening head, tonguing the slit and sucking gently. Severus grabbed hold of the countertop, fearful of falling over as the sensation overwhelmed him, and Potter hooked a finger on either side of the elastic band, sliding the pants down Severus' legs, letting them pool around his boot-clad ankles.   
  
Sighing with what sounded, incredibly, like appreciation, Potter said, "Oh god, I knew you'd look like this. Just knew it." A low growl followed and he looked up at Severus. Their eyes met for the first time since they'd begun this strange encounter, and the green eyes remained steady and full of want as Potter stretched his pink lips around Severus, taking nearly all of him into his hot mouth and throat, then creating a perfect suction as he pulled back. The rhythm he created was slow and maddening in a way that Severus never wanted to end, and Potter obliged, keeping Severus on the edge without letting him plunge over it.  
  
He couldn't recall the last time he'd been touched in this manner. He couldn't recall, at this point in the proceedings, his own name, but it came back to him swiftly enough when Potter abruptly stopped his talented mouth and stood, wrapping a hot hand around Severus' lavished flesh, stroking in that same slow manner that his mouth had used, and asked huskily, "Fuck me, Severus?"  
  
As he'd been ready to submit, Severus was taken aback for a moment. He searched Potter's eyes, but found only sincerity with a hint of vulnerability. Having control of the situation placed squarely in his hands sent a frisson of anticipation through Severus. This might be his only chance, and he resolved, then and there, to thoroughly enjoy every moment and every square inch of the man.  
  
He raised his hands from the countertop and cupped either side of Potter's face, then captured the lips hungrily, thrusting his tongue roughly into Potter's welcoming mouth. Potter sucked on it just as expertly as he had done Severus' cock, increasing Severus' already immeasurable arousal. Potter moaned and released Severus' tongue, eyes fluttering open to search Severus' face.  
  
"Is that what you really want, Mr. Potter? For me to _fuck_ that delectable arse of yours?" Severus had effectively used his voice as both weapon and tool of pleasure in the years since it'd settled into its velvety growl, but no occasion had ever been more satisfying than that moment.   
  
Potter was shaking with arousal, eyes hooded and filled with need. "Yes," he hissed. "Yes, please." The hooded eyes closed completely, as Severus stroked the high cheekbones with his thumb.  
  
"So polite. Such manners should be rewarded." Potter licked and nipped the pad of Severus' thumb as it passed over pink lips, then took it into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it before sucking gently. If this were indeed his only opportunity, he decided it would not be spent on his kitchen floor, within earshot of the meddling old fool on the wall, no less.   
  
He withdrew his hand to take Potter's arm and Apparated them both to his bedroom, landing with precision near his large, four-poster bed.   
  
While the cottage remained largely as it had been when his parents had lived there, his bedroom was the one room in which he'd indulged himself. It was his sanctuary, masculine and comfortable, with the heavy, carved-wood bed, luxurious fabrics, a down-filled duvet of deep wine-colored velvet with heavy bed curtains to match, and plush pillows at the head of it.   
  
Severus released Potter and drew his wand to light a fire in the cold hearth, then shrugged off his open robes as he stepped out of the silk boxers at his feet. He toed off one boot, then the other, sending it flying inadvertently. He decided to worry about the resulting crash later, giving his attention back to Potter, who was running his hands up and down Severus' chest, lightly pinching his nipples at random intervals, still entirely clothed.   
  
He set about remedying that situation, tugging Potter's shirt out of the denims and pulling it roughly up over his head, tossing it aside without thought as he took in the sight before him. Potter's chest was nearly hairless and pleasantly muscled—a professional Quidditch career had always seemed a rather frivolous pursuit to Severus, however the benefits of a regimented exercise program were on display in Potter's physique, and he suspected the lower half would be just as delightful as the upper.   
  
The fire cast a honeyed glow on the smooth golden skin. Running his hands over it with a bit of reverence, Severus tweaked the pink nipples, rolling the tiny nubs between his thumb and forefinger, then, to test the reaction, he pinched them firmly.   
  
Potter inhaled sharply, making an agreeable little noise in the back of his throat as his eyes flew open. He licked his lips then sucked his full lower lip between his teeth. Severus pinched again, harder this time, just to be certain, and the agreeable little noise bloomed into a larger, enthusiastic one.   
  
Oh, this was going to be even better than he'd imagined.  
  
"Are you prepared, Mr. Potter, to do as I say?"  
  
Potter looked intrigued. "Whatever you want, Severus—as long as it ends with your cock in my arse, I'm game," he added, one side of his mouth curved upward charmingly, then he leant forward to steal another kiss.   
  
Severus let him, then pushed him away gently and seated himself on the chair in the corner, next to the bed, demanding, "Remove your trousers." Potter moved quickly to comply, but Severus stopped him with an additional directive, "Slowly."  
  
"Right." He smiled that beguiling half-smile again and complied by lowering the zip nearly a notch at a time.   
  
Admiring the play of muscles in Potter's arms and stomach, Severus leant back and watched as Potter was slowly revealed to him. The lovely sprinkling of dark hair below Potter's navel formed a trail to a lusher patch of the same, drawing Severus' eyes to the spot where the denims parted. Making note of the highly interesting fact that Potter wore no pants under the trousers, Severus couldn't resist commenting on it, "No pants, Potter?" He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the remarkable blush that crept up Potter's face from his neck, adding, "Always flouting convention, aren't we?"  
  
Potter's eyes locked with his as he responded, "Well I, er, like to be prepared…" He hesitated, then winked cheekily, as he added, "Besides, you know me, Severus—rules don't always apply."  
  
Severus found himself breathless with anticipation, as Potter resumed his task and began softly caressing the taut abdominal muscles, before sliding his hands down into the trousers on either side of his hips.   
  
He pressed back further into the chair. The upholstery was a bit rough on his bare skin, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Using a thumb and two fingers, Severus began stroking himself lightly, just to tease and keep himself on edge, though, the sight before him was thoroughly arousing.   
  
Potter wriggled his hips as he slowly pushed the trousers down his legs, then stood upright again. He sucked in a breath as he caught Severus' eye, hissing, "Severus, god, don't do that; I'll come standing right here." And indeed, his beautifully formed cock twitched as Severus watched.  
  
He sprung from the chair, with an alacrity that surprised even himself, and stood over the shorter man, close, but not touching him. "You will do no such thing, Mr. Potter. You will not come, until I give you leave to do so. Understood?"  
  
"Oh god, yes," Potter whispered and closed his eyes.   
  
Severus touched him then, pulling the man flush against him and kissing him hard, tracing around Potter's full lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing inside, stroking Potter's eager tongue, twining them together, then thrusting the organ in and out of Potter's hot mouth in a preview of what was to come.   
  
Potter moved his hips to begin a gentle frottage and Severus enjoyed it for a moment, until the thrusting hips became more insistent. Severus grabbed hold of them and said, against Potter's mouth, "Patience."  
  
The green eyes met Severus' black ones, and Potter whispered, "I can do that."  
  
To prove it, Potter moved backward, lowering himself to the bed, lying back on it, propping up on his elbows, striking a seductive pose, and beckoning Severus to him with his eyes, clearly awaiting whatever Severus had in mind for him.   
  
Severus crawled up onto the bed, straddling Potter's legs, running his fingertips up the man's chest, then settling his hands on Potter's shoulders. He gave a push, until Potter took the hint, lying back fully on the bed, then Severus leant down, bracing his arms on either side of Potter's head and resumed the slow, gentle frottage, but only briefly. He made to kiss Potter, then redirected to his ear, where he softly commanded, "Roll. Over."  
  
Potter smiled a slow smile, raising an eyebrow, before he complied, shifting neatly when Severus rose up to give him room. "Is this how you want me?"  
  
Moving down Potter's legs, Severus took in the view before him and very nearly sighed aloud in appreciation—just as the denims had suggested, Potter's arse was a thing of beauty. Firm and gently rounded, like a perfectly fashioned peach, it was all Severus could do to keep himself from taking a bite… just yet.  
  
He responded to Potter's question by pushing aside the tangle of raven hair at his nape and planting a kiss just behind Potter's ear, then seeding a row of them down his neck and between his shoulder blades. He marked the golden skin there with teeth and lips, biting and sucking, then licking to sooth.   
  
Potter whimpered and moaned, and the sounds of approval increased the lower Severus moved. There were two delectable little dimples at the small of Potter's back, and Severus couldn't resist dipping his tongue into each one, causing Potter to jump slightly and giggle.   
  
"Tickles," he said, looking over his shoulder when Severus stopped and sent him a questioning look.  
  
Severus made note to search out other such spots later, if he had the opportunity, at the moment, however, his hands were far too occupied with the supple limbs splayed beneath him. He'd given himself the same directive of 'patience' with regard to Potter's arse, but he found he could no longer resist it.   
  
He moved between Potter's legs, and using both hands, he kneaded the flesh firmly, eliciting soft moans from its owner. The twin mounds fit neatly into each hand, and he enjoyed the sensation for a short time, then, directed Potter to lift up slightly with the lightest touch of his fingers to Potter's hipbones.   
  
Potter cottoned on and raised his hips, and Severus smoothed a hand over the curve that his back formed, then bent down to land kisses on the lovely arse, kissing down the backs of the firmly muscled legs. Working his way back up, he got his teeth involved, in the crease between leg and cheek, Severus nipped then licked, then nipped again. Potter's breath caught and he pushed his hips slightly upward. Severus took this as a request for more, and bent to the task with gusto, nibbling and licking, then finally marking the soft skin of the left cheek with steady suction, teeth and tongue.  
  
Thoroughly lavished on the exterior, he parted the cheeks with his thumbs, giving the pink pucker he found there the very same attention, licking and nibbling the wrinkled skin, swirling his tongue around the tight hole, causing Potter to lift his hips further and clutch at the duvet in a desperate manner.  
  
"Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod…" was Potter's mantra, as he pushed back into Severus' face, forcing Severus' tongue deeper into the hot channel, beyond the ring of muscle, and Severus gladly obliged, using one hand to add to the sensation by stroking the lovely soft skin of Potter's perineum in conjunction with his thrusting tongue, while keeping the busy hips from moving erratically with his other hand.  
  
Severus had always been both aurally and visually stimulated, and Potter's increasing vocal appreciation for the proceedings was driving him to the brink. He gave one last thrust of his tongue, swirling it around as he pulled out, then landed a kiss on the softened tissue before sitting up.  
  
Potter whined and squirmed in protest, and Severus committed the wanton display to memory, for savoring at another time, then playfully smacked the cheek that wasn't purpling from his attention.  
  
"Turn over, Potter," Severus directed, sitting back to give him room to do so.  
  
"You could do that some more, that little slap." Potter eyed him hopefully. Severus was not at all opposed to the idea, and found it rather intriguing that Potter had suggested it, but his own patience was nearing an end—he wanted inside Potter. Now.  
  
"Another time, perhaps. I have other things in mind for your arse. _Accio_ lubricant." A phial smacked soundly into Severus' hand. It hadn't traveled far; it'd been sitting on the bedside table where Severus had left it this morning—a fairly new position for it, as he'd kept it in the bathroom for years. Now he had the cause for its relocation eagerly eyeing him as he carefully spread the slick substance on his throbbing prick.  
  
"Cripes, if you could see yourself." There was a wolfish gleam in the emerald eyes that Severus quite enjoyed. "You might have to bind my hands, Severus, my prick is aching, and it's all I can do not to toss off watching you do that," he added with feigned innocence and a coquettish fluttering of eyelashes.  
  
Until that moment, Severus was certain that he couldn't possibly become any more aroused than he already was, but the suggestion, the very idea of Potter bound while he fucked him gave him a push into new heights. He actually had to stop what he was doing for fear of ending the encounter much sooner than he'd hoped.  
  
He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you certain?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm certain." Potter raised his arms over his head. "Please?"  
  
Severus grabbed his wand and pointed it at Potter's arms, saying, " _Incarcerous_."   
  
Two cords shot out of the end of his wand, slithering up each arm, binding one then the other to the bedposts on either side.   
  
He took a moment to marvel at what was being so freely offered. That Potter had such implicit trust in him, after their rocky history—necessity be damned—was nothing short of mind-boggling. Severus vowed to make certain the trust was not misplaced.  
  
Potter tested the restraint, nodded, and grinned. "Good." He was flushed and breathless, and now completely at Severus' mercy. As if reading Severus' mind, Potter added, "My pleasure is now in your hands, Severus."  
  
Indeed.  
  
Severus knelt between Potter's legs, running his hands up and down the length of Potter's torso, deliberately ignoring the full, red cock that lay heavily on Potter's stomach. He smoothed down Potter's legs then bent them, placing one on each of his shoulders. Merlin, if Potter only knew what it was doing to Severus to see him like that. Severus turned his head to the left and kissed the calf that rested there, stalling a bit, trying to calm himself enough to assure there would be no embarrassing false starts, or early finishes, rather.  
  
When he felt sufficiently in control, enough so that he could actually touch himself, he slowly, excruciatingly, sank into Potter, giving the man time to adjust to the intrusion.  
  
In this, as in everything else this day, Potter was way ahead of Severus, lifting his hips, welcoming Severus into his body more deeply than Severus had intended for this initial entry.  
  
The heat that surrounded his aching prick was incredible, tight, and oh-so perfect. Severus pulled back and thrust back into it, then out again, exploring a different angle on re-entry. When he'd found the right one, Potter cried out, "Guh," and then, "Yes! Right there."  
  
Severus drove in and out with a fervor then, as Potter became louder, though less intelligible in his approval, until he began chanting, "Harder. Harder. Harder. Oh god, Severus, harder!" in time with each thrust of Severus' hips.  
  
His bollocks and legs slapping noisily against Potter's backside, Severus gave him what he wanted. Pushing the legs down off of his shoulders, he leant forward and captured the words as they left Potter's mouth, while slamming into him ever more forcefully.   
  
The entire world condensed down into the space they occupied, nothing mattered but sustaining the rhythm and making certain that Potter kept making those wonderful noises. Severus rose up onto his elbows, then bent his head to tongue Potter's nipples, taking one of the stiff buds between his front teeth, holding it there firmly and licking at the sensitive tip.  
  
"Oh god! Yes! Severus, I need…. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…." Potter cried out.   
  
It took a moment for Severus to recall the order he'd given Potter. "Such pretty begging."  
  
Severus finally allowed himself to wrap a hand around Potter's hard cock, letting his own driving hips set the pace as it thrust up into his grip, then firming his grasp as Potter started begging again. "Severus, please…ungh… pleasepleaseplease,"  
  
He couldn't draw it out any longer, he increased the pressure with his hand, stroking faster and harder, and used everything else he had to drive himself into the man. "Come for me, Harry."  
  
Potter's eyes flew open and met Severus', never leaving them as his face contorted into a mask of pure pleasure with his powerful release. So powerful that Severus was helpless to resist—his own orgasm overwhelmed him, pulling him into the vortex that Potter had created, and they spun together as Severus emptied himself into him, Potter spurting slickly between them. Then Severus collapsed on top of him, fully drained, and incomparably sated.  
  
He came back to himself enough to realize he was probably crushing Potter, but not enough to do anything about it. Potter didn't seem to mind—he was lazily running a foot up and down Severus' leg.  
  
Severus realized then, why he was using a foot for the task, and, without lifting his head, muttered the incantation to end the binding.  
  
"Thanks." The now-free arms lowered and encircled Severus, giving his back the same soothing treatment his leg had received.  
  
He sighed drowsily, wishing to remain in this languid stupor for as long as Potter would allow it, though he expected at any moment Potter would make his excuses and leave.  
  
And it was much too soon when Potter shook his shoulder, "Severus? Are you awake?"  
  
"Hmmm?" was the all that Severus could produce as an answer. As much as he'd been expecting it, he'd hoped that Potter would at least fully enjoy the after-glow, before taking his leave.  
  
"If we don't move now, we'll be stuck together," Potter said with amusement in his voice.   
  
Damn it to hell—when had the pest become so practical-minded?  
  
He lifted up, finding they were already slightly adhered, and pulling apart cost Severus a chest hair or two, though he only grunted as he moved to the side, closing his eyes again. Mentally and physically, he began pulling away from Potter, preparing himself for the inevitable departure.  
  
"Do you think we could get under the covers? I'm freezing without you on top of me."  
  
Surprised, though he dared not show it, Severus opened one eye to look at Potter, and watched as he preformed a wandless _Scourgify_ to clean up their sticky mess, then cooperated as Potter set about settling them both under the warm weight of the linens and duvet.  
  
He was surprised again when Potter lifted his arm up, sneaking underneath to use Severus' chest as a pillow. Severus rested his arm on Potter's back, and finally let himself relax into the comfort of his bed.   
  
Potter was not in a hurry it seemed, and he thought, as he drifted off to sleep, perhaps he could persuade him to stay long enough for another round.  
  
~~**~~  
  
Severus awoke, disappointed, but not terribly surprised to find that he was alone. He allowed himself a moment to wallow and lament the return of his lonely existence, then forced himself to rise from the bed where Potter's delicious scent still lingered. He was tempted to banish the linens, but couldn't bring himself to actually do it—instead, though the darkness out the window indicated it was still quite early, he donned his dressing gown, then headed for the kitchen and some tea… or maybe scotch.… Yes, copious scotch consumption seemed to be in order.  
  
He couldn't complain, he supposed; he'd had more sex in the last fifteen hours than he'd had in the fifteen years before them. The evening's activities had left him with a wonderful sort of ache—most especially in his arse, as it had been a while for him, and Potter had been rather enthusiastic in his go on top. He'd been that and more throughout the short time they'd spent together: creative, thoughtful, passionate—and accommodating, when he'd coaxed a third arousal out of Severus, he'd bottomed from the top, affording Severus an incredible view while Potter had done all the work.   
  
There'd even been tenderness, he'd thought perhaps... Well, it didn't matter what he'd thought; reality had brought something entirely different.   
  
Wisely, he thought now, he'd not allowed himself to hope for more, and his low expectations had once again been met. Potter had apparently scratched whatever itch had driven him to initiate their unlikely coupling, and Severus expected he'd finally seen the last of him. At least his pest-deterrent efforts would no longer be necessary; it appeared he'd finally stumbled upon the perfect solution for that particular brand of pest. He smirked sourly. _If I'd only thought of it sooner_...   
  
His bare feet made no noise on the carpeted stairs, and the bookcase that concealed the staircase door was silent as Severus pushed it open, so when he heard the sound, there was no mistaking it.   
  
It was definitely a chuckle—a deep, rich chuckle that flooded Severus' senses with warmth, before leaving him rather cold.  
  
He shivered slightly and made his way to the partially open kitchen door, and held his breath as he listened to the conversation coming from the other side of it.  
  
"Yes, he did." The chuckle again—this time it caused a clenching in Severus' chest that he refused to analyze or even acknowledge.  
  
Severus forced himself to remain calm, softly expelling the breath he'd held, and leant an ear closer to the doorway; he would learn nothing if he burst into the room at this point. Why had Potter stopped to have a chat with Albus? Didn't he have an identical portrait of his own?  
  
"Excellent, Harry, well done. I had a feeling Severus might be more receptive."  
  
"Thank you for your advice, Professor."  
  
"You are most welcome. Patience is not an easy thing when one is young. It is, however, vital where Severus is concerned."  
  
Another chuckle, this one softer, and Potter said, almost… _fondly_ , "So true. I think I have enough of it now, though, I'm glad I waited so long."  
  
"Good, good."   
  
"I'd best get back, I don't want Severus to wake up and think I've gone."  
  
"Yes, you'd better." There was a slight pause, and then Albus added, "I do have one request, Harry—please, tread lightly. For all of his prickly demeanor, Severus is still human, and subject to the same hurts as anyone else. Perhaps more so than most for his inexperience in such matters."   
  
Severus was at once irritated by the sentiment, and warmed by the implications of it.  
  
"I will, Professor. I'd never hurt him intentionally, but especially now that he's let me in—I intend to stay as long as he'll let me."  
  
Not waiting for Albus' response, Severus quickly Apparated back to his bedroom, grateful, not for the first time, that he'd long ago mastered the skill to do so silently.   
  
He threw his dressing gown on the chair in the corner and slid under the covers, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling slowly to calm his racing heart. He muttered a quick warming charm as well, as his toes were icy.  
  
Potter had not fled after all. And, most unexpectedly, it seemed he wished to stay. Severus didn't know what to make of it, but the idea of spending more time with Potter was not an unpleasant one.  
  
The man himself crept into the room and slid under the sheets behind Severus, wrapping his arm around Severus' middle and kissing his shoulder.  
  
Severus allowed Potter to 'awaken' him, and fell easily into the languorous kiss, running hands lightly over exquisitely formed musculature. He knew it was dangerous, knew that he could very easily become accustomed to this, only to have it ripped away from him without warning, but Severus decided that he would take that risk.   
  
It was bound to go horribly wrong, of course, but in the meantime, Severus would thoroughly enjoy redefining the term _pest control_.  
  
  
~FIN~


End file.
